


Smother

by agrestical



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, High School AU, Jock!Dean, M/M, nerd!cas, teenage!Cas, teenage!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrestical/pseuds/agrestical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens at parties, stays at parties, as far as Dean's concerned but for some reason, he can't get that boy with the blue eyes out of his head...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is set in 1985, and Dean and Cas are both seventeen years old.

_Though I know I'll never lose affection_

_For people and things that went before_  
 _I know I'll often stop and think about them_  
 _In my life I love you more_  
 _In my life I love you mor_ e

-The Beatles

_In My Life_

 

**March 19th 1985**

Dean took to telling himself that it was just a party.

Things that happen at parties are supposed to stay at parties. And despite how ridiculous that rule sounded in his head, it soothed his anxiety just enough to keep his breathing steady.

He sat down at the usual lunch table where his friends were chattering away, and took his spot next to Crowley who was carelessly picking out the tomatoes in his sandwich and flipping them onto the tray. “Hey, What's up, man?”

The two of them had known one another since the age of ten, when Crowley had moved to Dean's school from somewhere in Brooklyn- they’d become friends almost instantly after discovering their shared interest in cars.  
And over the years, Crowley had blossomed from the shell of a small, weedy boy who'd use his inhaler every time he took a step outside, to some kind of rebellious teen who stuck Playboy pin-ups on his walls, wore the same leather jacket every day of his life, and often smoked with the stoner kids behind the bike shed.

“Not much, really.” Dean tried his best to shrug off the feeling, but he could taste the heaviness of the tone, how false it sounded on his tongue.

Crowley looked at him with a slight frown as if wondering whether or not to accept Dean’s pathetic lie, but after a moment, shrugged and took a long pull of soda through a straw.

“That’s not true,” observed Charlie, absent-mindedly tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “You’re really wired today like something’s stressing you out.”

“Yeah… I can see it too... is there something wrong?” Meg chipped-in, looking rather concerned as she took a bite of her sandwich.

Meg Masters had sex for the first time two years ago with a senior that had once gone out with her older sister. Fortunately for her, because it was at a party, the experience didn’t count. She'd later lost her virginity a second time, to a new boy she’d barely known for more than five minutes, on one of the desks in the Art department.

And no one had questioned her about it- as far as Dean was aware, she’d barely given more than a second thought about it. (Apart from the minor details she'd shared the next day about the aching in places Dean didn't want to hear about.)

Maybe if he stopped worrying so much then he could handle this situation with a similar casual attitude and it wouldn't have to bother him again.

“I’m fine, guys, honest. I guess I’m just a little worried over stupid crap like the tests I’ve got coming up and everything and…” His sentence trailed off suddenly, only vaguely aware that the attention of his friends had since drifted to some gossip about the basketball coach. Dean on the otherhand, was far more preoccupied by the boy who’d just entered the canteen, a few books tucked under his arm and his bag slung over on one shoulder.

Castiel was all tufty dark brown hair, and big blue eyes eyes and thick lashes and full lips. Lips that could taste of chear beer and sour shots and a tongue that could-

He shook the image clear out his head, eyes carefully trained on the other boy as he sat down at the table in the far corner of the canteen. There were two other people there, friends who were probably too low on ladder of popularity for Dean to know the names of. To think Castiel had been there once.

At that realisation, he stubbornly tried to ignore the disappointment in the pit of his stomach when he noticed that Castiel hadn’t acknowledged him once.

Maybe if the two of them weren’t on polar ends of the high-school food chain then they would have already talked about it and come to some kind of conclusion. Not that he wanted an ending when he'd only just been given an oppertunity.

“Hey! Hey Dean! Dean!” snapped Charlie.

His name brought him slowly out of his daydream, gaze focusing to find her fingers clicking in front of his face. “Are you still with us?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” and forced an all-teeth-smile for reasurance.

But Meg continued frowning, dark curls falling forward. “You’re lying, Dean Winchester and it doesn’t suit you."

 

 

After the bell, Dean waited patiently by his car, leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest.

“Dean, can we please go home now? We’ve been waiting out here for ages,” came a whiney voice from inside the impala.

“Just hold your horses, okay Sammy? It’s been ten minutes.” Dean told his little brother, and heard the small puff of a sigh.

“What are we waiting for anyway?” Sam asked.

And that’s when Dean spotted him, trying to carefully make his way through a sea of people with sharp elbows that nudged him in other directions.

As he wandered closer to the edge of the crowd, Dean straightened up his slack posture and attempted to take a couple steps forward, ready to shout something to catch his attention. But as he set one foot ahead, he was immediately pulled back by the tight grip that was on the back of his jacket.

He swivelled his hips round as far as possible to find that the main cause of the problem, to find that the car door had somehow caught hold of the fabric and was refusing to let it go. He swore under his breath and pulled the handle of the door open, tugging his jacket out and then closing it again, not missing Sam's glaring in the background.

And when he turned back, Castiel seemed to have disappeared. Curiously, he sauntered forward, threading himself through the small groups of people that stood clustered together, laughing and chattering about all the things that they’d heard and seen during the day.

He found himself bumping into people now and again, muttering appologisies in the hope that they would hear him. More often than not, they weren’t needed, for most of the girls seemed to be anything but annoyed by his clumsiness and he received more suggestive winks than he could count on his fingers. And it's not like he could help but give a few in return. Not that he was here for that, he promptly reminded himself.

Suddenly, he was hit by something and almost toppled over as it fell towards into him.

Not a something, he was quick to realise, but a someone.

Castiel looked up from where his head was against Dean’s chest, and Dean saw the dark pink colour stain his pale cheeks. And Castiel pulled away, his hands pushing against Dean’s chest as he took a step back, words spilling out his mouth so fast that it was only possible pick out a few short phrases.

“I didn’t mean to” and “I don’t know” and “are you ok? Did I hurt you?”, and a “sorry” thrown in with every gasping breath.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Dean chuckled softly, a little amused at Castiel’s blabbering. “It’s okay- I’m fine.”

At this, Castiel's mouth suddenly snapped shut, cutting off the trail of appologies. “Good.” And then he noticed his books on the floor and bent down to pick them up. Dean had the overwhelming urge to help him but before he could offer, they were already gathered and secured under an arm.

“How about you? Are you okay?” Dean asked instead, and he was surprised at how casual he was, how at ease and confident he felt. Maybe it was Castiel’s nervousness that gave him comfort in the fact that he didn't need to worry about making himself seem a fool.

“I think so,” Castiel replied, glancing down at his body. He frowned. “I’m sorry I rushed into you like that. Someone shoved me and I’m just really clumsy…”

“I told you,” Dean sighed, “I’m fine.” And that caused Castiel's lips to twitch upwards slightly, and it was only a fleeting movement but enough to set butterflies loose in his stomach.

And they stayed like that for a minute- Castiel staring at the ground, embarrassed, and Dean just looking at him, trying to think of what to say. He was only just slightly aware of the decreasing number of people around them.

Sammy was probably getting bored.

“Hey!” The word escaped Dean’s mouth before he had time to think about it and Castiel’s eyes flickered upwards. “Do you, um… do you want… would you like a lift home?”

At the silence following the question, he found himself suddenly regretted the offer. And there was a moment where he just wanted to take it all back and remind himself that this was a boy, and this boy had next-to-no friends and probably remembered all those times when Dean had called him names down the hall and shoved him into lockers with enough force that his back was probably patterned in dark bruises.

“Okay.” Castiel replied, finally, and all those thoughts evaporated.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean nodded and beckoned him to follow. “You don’t mind sitting in the back seat, do you?” He asked as the two of them made their way to shiny black car, there was a strong sense of confidence in Dean's walk. “My little brother kind of called shotgun today.”

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t mind. Thank you for letting me come.” He stepped inside carefully when Dean held the door open for him, obviously trying to keep his footing certain so as not to place mud on the carpet. He was thankful for Castiel’s appreciation and firmly closed the door, a smug smile on his face.

Stepping into the driver’s seat, he found Sam hunched up in his own seat, arms crossed, aiming a scowl at his older brother who winked in return.

“We’ve got extra company tonight, I hope you don't mind." Sam's expression turned into something more of curiousity than anger, as he took a look back at the dark-haired boy in the back. "You'll have to watch out, Sammy, you might have some competion for front seat next time." And when he took a glance at the rearview mirror, Dean could have sworn he saw an actual smile there.

 

 

Castiel didn't say a word the whole time they drove.

Dean's music blasted loudly and he mumbled along to the words, every lyric already tattooed in the back of his mind; Sam sat quietly beside him, his head stuck in a book, resting up against the dashboard, seeming completely oblivious to anything that was happening around him as if trapped in his own little world. And when Dean checked the mirror, Castiel was sat up proper and staring out the window, his books and bag in a nice little pile next to him.

He tried not to show it, but Dean was nervous.

He didn't know Castiel, not really. Just that he had lived across the street from him and when they were little, kids at school would make fun of him because he'd spend his lunchtimes sitting under the trees in the park, reading rather than playing games with friends. And he also remembered that Castiel had been the first boy in their year to have kissed a girl and everyone had made a big deal of it, inviting him to join in their games and walk home with them after school. Not that the fact was anything of importance, but it was the only significant memory Dean could find. Everything later to that date was blurred, nothing but perhaps a few looks across the classroom.

And the kiss. He couldn't forget that.

His fingers tapped against the steering wheel anxiously, a little off-beat tune that matched the fast pace of his heartbeat as he pulled up outside his own house. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Castiel turn his head to look out at the building, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Out you get, Sammy." Dean told his younger brother, giving him a gentle nudge on his arm.

Sam frowned as he stuffed his book into his bag and zipped it up. "What about you?"

"Tell mum I'll be home after dinner." He felt Castiel's eyes on him as he spoke. "Tell her that I'm sorting out some school stuff with a friend."

He recieved an eye roll in response. "Okayyy," Sam said, dragging out the word over-dramatically, "just remember that you need to help me study for my math test when you get back."

Dean laughed softly, messing up that mop of brown hair with his hand. "Will do. Now, off you go."

They didn't even bother with a goodbye, Sam stepping out wordlessly and slamming the door closed behind him which he was well aware irritated his older brother. And Dean watched as he made his way up the steps and disappeared into the front door, before turning around to face the silent passenger in the back.

"You want to come up here?" He asked Castiel, pointing to the seat Sam had just occupied and flashing a grin which he hoped came across as playful as he imagined. He didn't want this to be awkward, he'd decided, he wanted to act like they'd been best friends for years. Just another car-ride with a familiar face.

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked cautiously, a hand hovering by the door handle.

"Would I be asking if I wasn't?"

The reply seemed enough to convince him for Castiel shrugged his shoulders and opened the door, stepping out into the humid air of the evening and climbing into the passenger side. And as he did so, he felt the lingering of Dean's eyes on his face and his stomach knotted, whether in excitement or anxiety, he wasn't sure. He just hoped he wouldn't throw up.

Dean pulled away from the curb, feeling more at ease than before now that no one was around to see them. He even took the risk of moving into Castiel's personal space as he turned down his loud music just incase he wasn't much of a fan of rock.

"D'you want me to turn it off?" He asked and Castiel looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "It doesn't bother me." Was the answer and so Dean shrugged and placed his hand back on the steering wheel.

And those were the only words spoke until they reached the empty parking lot of a supermarket that had closed down a few months ago and he probably could have chosen a more attractive spot to do this, but here they were alone and far away from any wandering eyes. Dean cut the engine and they both sat there, staring out the window at the empty street.

"So.", Castiel mumbled, cutting the silence. "What did you bring me out here for?"

"I, uh, I..." words suddenly seemed all jumbled to him and he struggled to remember how to construct sentences. "I was wondering what we're going to do about other night."

They stared at each other for a moment as if searching for the answer in the others eyes and Castiel worried at an area on his lip, trying to come up with something to say.

"By last night, you mean the kiss?" He finally said and Dean nodded. "Yeah- that."

And Castiel sighed, long and loud, feeling disappointed and a little upset. He tried to keep his face indifferent.

"Look." He began, sucking in a deep breath. "I understand that you want me to forget it about. Never to bring it up again. It was a one-time thing. Heat of the moment. Whatever you want to call it. It's okay, I get it."

Dean frowned, completely taken back and embarassed. Was that what he thought of him? "What?"

"What?" Castiel repeated, seeming equally as confused.

"I... you've got it all wrong. I didn't bring you out here to tell you that." He saw Castiel's shoulders relax from the tension he hadn't even noticed was there. "I was actually going to say the exact opposite." Castiel quirked an eyebrow, waiting for more. "See, I really can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about you. It was great... better than most, actually." He felt his face go hot. "I was kind of hoping that that sort of thing could continue."

"Are you asking me out?"

Dean felt his stomach flip at the abuptness of the question. "Oh! No, no, no... I meant like... fooling around, y'know. Nothing serious. That means we could keep it quiet- no one asking questions... You can be my 'little bit on the side' you could say."

"So you're asking me if I want to "fool around" with you?" And Castiel chuckled at the phrase and it was possibly the first time Dean had ever heard him laugh.

He swallowed nervously. "Um... yeah. Yes." He coughed, clearing his throat. "Yes, I am." He said, seriously.

Castiel pondered over the offer for a moment, turning to look back out of the window thoughtfully. Dean found himself wishing that he could hear his thoughts right about now so that he wouldn't have to go through this kind of anticipation.

It felt like years waiting for an answer, but finally, he heard a simple, quiet "yes".


	2. Chapter 2

It was thrilling, Dean thought, sneaking around with Castiel.

For the first few weeks, it was an easy routine: Dean took Castiel home from school, dropped Sam off at house, and then they would head off to the deserted car park. It was fairly cramped in Dean's car, and the leather of the seats left their skin red raw if pressed against too hard. On the third week, it was Dean who took Castiel's virginity, which he thought made the occasion twice as exciting (and of course, slightly awkward and more gentle than Dean was used to.) And afterwards, once they had gotten dressed, Dean had persuaded Castiel to come over to his house for dinner, where the rest of the evening was spent discussing Sam's new girlfriend over home-made steak pie.

Dean couldn't help but love the way Castiel was able to so easily fit himself into the family, using his exquisite charm to win over both parents and little brother. He'd somehow been able to juggle between discussing baseball with his dad, and music with his mom, and even giving Sam some help with his English homework.

The whole experience had given Castiel a certain glow, and Dean had to resist the temptation to lean in and kiss him right there, as they stood on the doorstep and bid each other goodnight.

He had to remind himself that this wasn't good- getting emotionally invested in this “thing” would lead to more trouble than he cared for. Plus, they'd made a strict deal to have no strings attatched. And in this moment, Dean tried to ignore the fact that he'd been the idiot to suggest that idea in the first place.

Not that it mattered at all, of course.

"I like you’re new friend." said his mother, coming to stand next to him in doorway, watching Castiel walk down the road. "He's nice."

After that, not everything they did fit itself inside the boundaries of their little timetable.

Soon they found themselves stealing dirty kisses at the back of the library or in the janitors closet, some subtle looks across the room- all with the constant fear of being caught at any point. But in Dean's books that was considered half the fun, especially when that kind of vunerability and risk made Castiel's skin flush the way it did when he got embarassed.

And the sudden closeness was never mentioned between them. It sat heavy in the air, between every brushing of arms and fleeting smiles.

It wasn't long before neither of them could remember a time when things weren't like this. When the pressure of fingertips on a thigh was hesitant and unsure, and now a casual action on every car ride home.

It was kind of odd, Dean had found himself thinking once, that he didn't see Castiel as that weird, quiet boy he had spent all those years ignoring. He was different to the person he’d expected to find behind all those books; witty and charismatic, but often shy and thoughtful. It was always to be expected to hear something unexpected, and it was usually in those little moments that made the little pieces of Dean's heart melt.

Which was the kind of thing that he would never have imagined thinking before but this was Cas, and Cas was different.

For example, Castiel never complained about the music Dean blasted in the car, and laughed at his lame jokes, and was always trusting when letting Dean do what he wanted with him. It seemed Castiel wanted to do nothing but  _please_ Dean, as if he'd forgotten all those times Dean had bullied and beaten him for no reason for the past few years.

Nowadays, memories like that made him feel like the worst person on the planet. Because Castiel wasn't at all bad- Castiel was the one who lay next to him in the cramped area of the backseat and placed little kisses all over his stomach.

"I'm having a party on Saturday!" Meg stated cheerily as she sat down across from Dean, slamming her tray down hard enough that his cola sloshed and splashed onto the table.

Dean’s train of thought broke as the cool liquid landed on his hand and spit on his t-shirt.

"How many people are going? Is it gonna be big? Can I bring some friends with me?" asked Crowley enthusiastically.

"Oh, I was just planning it for it just be us guys." Informed Meg and Crowley's smile dropped. "Oh don't pull a face- just because you wanted to cause some trouble." She said, throwing one of her chips at him.

He smirked, picking the chip from his lap and popping into his mouth. "You know me too well."

"Unfortunately."

 

* * *

 

On their way home from school, Dean told Sam about the party.

It wasn't a day that Castiel had accompanied them on the car ride because he had piano lessons.

 _Maybe that's where he learnt to be so good with his hands,_  Dean thought and very quickly shook from his head remembering that his little brother was present.

He explained to Sam that he wasn't to tell their mother because she always worried about these things when really, there was nothing that needed to be worried about in the first place.

"What do I tell her instead?" asked Sam, his eyes never leaving the page he was reading.

"Tell her... Tell her I'm doing school stuff with some friends." Dean suggested, tapping his hands on the steering wheel.

"I hate to break it to you, Dean, but I think that excuse is getting old. You've been doing an awful lot of 'school stuff' lately."

Dean swallowed, suddenly a little nervous- he hadn't considered Sammy's curiosity before.

"It's not an excuse. Cas and I have been doing a..." he racked his brain for a subject. "...History project! It's taking quite a bit of time to get done."

"I noticed." Sam replied, snapping his book closed as if to announce closure.

 

* * *

 

It was amazing how much this thing with Dean effected him. It seemed entwined with everything Castiel did.

He just had to decide whether this was a good or bad sign.

Sometimes, he thought it good- maybe too good. The kissing, the touching, and the sense that he finally a part of something. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he had some kind of purpose; something to give. And Dean looked after him, and took care of him.

But there were the bad points. When Dean's friends found it funny to tease him, or make jokes. Not only at him, but at his friends too. And Cas was aware that this was what they did, and this was just how it worked when there were popular kids and the un-popular ones sharing the same building. It was just how highschool worked. But when seeing Dean's spiteful laughter and sneers- the obvious glee he gained from doing this, Cas felt like he'd some how been betrayed. Not that they'd discussed it anywhere else.

There was one point when one of Dean's friends, with the dark hair and lipstick, snapped at him because she'd seen him roll his eyes at something she'd said. She'd grabbed his bag, emptied the contents all over the shiney floor of the corridor, sending loose papers flying everywhere. And she shoved the bag at his chest, smiled coyly and blew him a quick kiss before walking off. He did his best to ignore the snide remarks made about him as she did so.

And Dean, lingering a moment, stared at Cas who was bending down to shove his belongings back where they came from. Maybe he would have helped if it had not been for _Meg_  snapping at him to come along, like he was some kind of trained dog.

And so, he'd simply left and high-fived her, and the action caused Castiel to flinch as if it was the side of his face and not another palm that had been slapped.

And when Dean had thought to question him about his hostiatlity that night, Castiel had not been afraid to tell him. And Dean, that relentless bastard, had been fairly appologetic, murmering appoligies into his skin making it incredibly hard to maintain the stubborn behaviour Castiel was trying to present.

He'd been walking down the hall, clumsily trying to swerve his way through the crowds of people as he made his way to his locker. But someone grabbed his arm, tugging him out of the midst of chattering students and rushing teachers and into the coolness of a storeroom.

He barely had the chance to check that his mysterious disappearance hadn’t caused any disruption before the door closed and shut the noise out, almost completely. And when he turned round, he discovered he was astoundingly close to Dean whose whole body seemed aglow underneath the dull light of the naked bulb dangling above their heads.

“Dean? What did you-” he began, but his question was cut sort as another pair of lips clashed against his, swallowing the words for him.

Dean’s hands wandered from the side of Castiel’s face to the straps of his bag, pushing them away so that they slipped down his arms and landed on the floor with a light “thud”, carelessly kicking it aside with his boot so that it wouldn’t get in the way. Castiel stepped backwards, or was more likely shoved, against the wall where Dean was suddenly pressed up right against him.

The kiss became heated almost instantly, tongues sliding against the others, and Castiel artfully licked the roof of Dean's mouth making him groan in response.

Dean's hands grabbed hungrily at Castiel’s thighs, who thankfully got the message and lifted himself up, legs wrapping tightly around Dean's waist, accidently knocking over a broom. Dean pressed his hands on either side of Castiel’s head so that he could bring himself closer, and another pair wandered underneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips pressing hard on his hipbones.

Dean was the first to pull away, his teeth grazing over Castiel’s bottom lip. He rested his forehead against his as they gasped for air, mouths hanging open as their breath mingled.

“Oh.” Was all Castiel was able to say.

“Sorry…” Dean mumbled, and   the legs around him loosened and Castiel placed his feet back firmly on the floor but leaving his arms around Dean’s neck. “I just really missed you, Cas.”

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. “I could tell.”

Dean felt the tips of his ears go red. “I, um… I wanted to ask you something, as well, actually.”

“Ask me what?”

“Would you, uh, would you be able to come over to my house tonight, maybe?” Dean wanted to mentally punch himself for his shaky tone if voice.

Cas seemed surprised, his blue eyes widening. “Oh! Oh, of course. Why’d you ask?”

“Well, it seems Sammy’s starting to suspect that it’s not just homework that we’re doing.” He couldn’t help but smirk at that, could hear the clear amusement that layered his voice as he continued. “I really don’t want him snooping about on this so I was hoping that we could maybe keep him convinced, if you came over for a ‘study session’ or whatever.”

“But I don’t have anything to show for our non-existent study-periods.”

“Just make sure you have all your books and stuff on show instead of in your bag, and no one will bother to question it.” Dean suggested, shrugging.

“Hmm… okay, then. I've missed Mary.” And he smiled. “I have to go find my friends now, they'll be wondering where I've gone off to.”

“See you later.” And before Cas could take a step away, he placed one more kiss on those lips. the action was small, but there was an undeniable undertone of significance in it, the kind of notion that left Cas with butterflies in his stomach.

Neither of them mentioned it again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh! It’s so nice to see you again, Castiel!” Exclaimed Mary Winchester, as she wrapped her arms around the boy without a warning.

Cas stood awkwardly still, his arms pinned to his sides in the tight embrace and he felt his face go pink at this obvious show of affection.

“Mom, please, it’s _Cas_." Dean sighed from where he stood beside them.

Mary pulled away, her smile big and wide. Cas noticed the slight indents in her cheeks, wondering if this was probably where Sam had got his dimples from.

“Of course, sorry.” She placed a hand on the side of the door and gestured into the hallway. “Come in, come in. No point standing out here on the porch all night. I’m guessing Dean’s invited you round for dinner, then?” She closed the door behind them, flicking off the switch to the outside light.

Dean gave her a crooked smile, one that Cas would label as 'm _ischievous'_. “Yeah, I did. Is that alright, mom?”

“Yes, yes! It’s perfectly alright. Great, even! I’ve already started cooking, should be finished in about an hour.” Her eyes glanced at the thick notebook tucked underneath Cas’ arm. “I hear you’ve been helping Dean with his school work? He’s been having some trouble with a couple of subjects lately, but Sam tells me you’re very clever. I'm hoping you can sort out my boy for me.”

Cas gave her the best smile he could muster as she beamed at him. “I’m doing my best, Mrs Winchester. Dean is somewhat of a quick learner.”

And Cas didn't have to hear the words to know that all Dean was thinking was "that's ironic of you to say". He resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

“Oh stop that now, it’s just Mary." She laughed gently. "And I’m so glad to hear you’re improving.” She gave Dean a proud look, so adoring that Castiel felt his heart swell to twice the size.

“Okay, mom, enough of your blabbering- we've got stuff to be getting on with.” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Just up here.” He gestured Castiel to the stairway.

As they made their way up, Cas heard Mary’s little comments as she made her way to the kitchen. Things like “what a lovely young man”, “so polite”, “handsome”, and Castiel was pleasantly surprised by the compliments.

“How the hell do you even do that?” asked Dean, disbelieving as he led them down the corridor.

“Do what?"

“Wrap people around your little findger like that? My mom loves you. She’s always telling me how much of a good influence you are for both me and Sammy; always asking when I’m going to bring you round.” They reached the end of the hall to a white door, and Dean seemed to hesitate before pushing it open.

To sum it all up in one word, Cas would describe Dean’s room as "cool". And that wasn't a word Cas could ever remember using to describe anything.

Standing there in his ruffled shirt and squint tie and trousers, he felt very, very " _un_ -cool".

The space was big, and the walls were mainly covered in posters of bands Cas vaguely remembered seeing on the covers of the cassette tapes that lived in the dashboard of the Impala. A stereo sat on top of the chest of drawers in the far corner; multiple framed photographs of Dean and his friends sat on the shelf on the wall alongside a stack of tapes; multiple stickers of various song lyrics that Cas had heard Dean sing along to on drives home from school, covered the doors of the wooden wardrobe; by the bed, which Cas was amazed was neatly made, was a messy pile of magazines ranging from the subject of vintage cars to porn, and on the night stand sat an alarm clock which seemed to have a large dent in the top from where hands had carelessly thumped it to turn off. The desk sat with a perfect view out the window of the houses across the street and if you leant over, Cas discovered you could see where he lived.

He wondered if Dean would want to come to his house some time, meet his family and eat dinner with them. He hoped so.

“You like it?” Dean asked, amused by Cas’ wide-eyed expression as he examined the space.

“It’s very…” Cas glanced around, at the torn and dog-eared edges of the posters, and the peeling paint on the door, and the small crack in the corner of the mirror on the wall. "...you."

Dean smirked and made a small humming sound in the back of his throat, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "D'you want to sit down?" He asked Cas, who took a look around before awkwardly placing himself cross-legged on the floor.

"If you want, I can put on some music?" He asked, gesturing to the stereo, to which Cas shrugged. "Alrighty then, if you're not gonna answer then you're just going to have to go with what I say."

If Castiel had ever considered Dean to be in his element anywhere, then he would have automatically thought of the Impala,- his one and only treasure. His "baby", as he'd heard him to refer to her as so often. Sometimes Dean called Cas "baby" in the most heated of moments, when the windows were fogged with the meaning behind the sweet nothings. Cas hoped that it still meant something.

But in his bedroom, Dean seemed so entirely at ease; his whole posture relaxed as he made his way around, hunting for something in particular. It was almost like this was something incredibly private and Castiel felt suddenly invasive as he sat right in the middle of it, so obviously out of place.

"Will this do?" Dean asked as he pressed the play button and waited for the music to start up. "It's my mom's. She really likes this stuff and I thought maybe you would too... a bit of a change-up from my normal 'racket'." He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Cas watched the movement with curiousity.

Cas was surprised that it was The Beatles that stuttered out the worn speakers, barely audible over the crackling probably from where Dean had turned up his heavy music too high. "Love Me Do", he remembered quickly, a song his Aunty liked to sing around the house when he was little.

If he'd felt like an oddity in this place before, then this song could have been seen almost like an alien with it's chirpy tone in such a shadowy atmosphere.

"Thank you." He said, smiling- not just smiling, but grinning. "I like this one."

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could have sworn that Dean looked relieved, his body relaxing as he let out a long breath. "Good."

 

 

Mary had made pasta that night, and they sat at the table and waited for ten minutes for her husband, John, to come home. Once he'd turned up and changed from his dirty clothes and washed as much grease as possible from his hands, they all had to join hands and say grace. Later, Cas asked Dean if his family was religious and Dean had told him that they weren't but his mom wanted to make sure that God knew that they were thankful for His generosity if He actually existed. Cas had said that it sounded very "Mary Winchester" which made Dean laugh, filling Cas with a warm sense pride and accomplishment.

"So, Cas, do you have any idea what you want to do when you leave school?" John asked while they ate, and Dean's attention suddenly changed from the clock, to the two men at the sound of Castiel's name.

"Um, I was kind of hoping that I'd be able to go to college or something, maybe become a doctor. I'm not quite sure yet, I just know I want to help people." Cas replied easily, comfortably. He wasn't sure how the Winchester household was able to make him feel so relaxed.

"A _doctor_." Mary stated enthusiastically as if she were talking about her own son. "That's very impressive. Sam's wanting persue a career that's something like that."

Sam's head snapped up from the piece of pasta he was prodding with his fork. "Oh yeah! I know I'm only, like, thirteen, but I really want to be a lawyer. My friends all think it's boring but I've watched the tv shows before and it's all about murders and shouting at people."

John laughed, nudging his youngest son with his elbow. If Sam had the softness of his mothers features, Dean was definitely all his dad, from the eyes to the wide grins and the way his shoulders moved when he found something funny.

"Dean wants to take over the garage with his Uncle Bobby, huh kid?" John said, before taking a sip of his beer.

Dean looked almost embarrassed as he nodded. "Yeah. I think it'd be cool. Working with cars and machines and all, all day would be great."

"Just because you are so fortunate as to have such a thing to fall back on, don't forget about your education. That is just as important." Mary reminded him, obviously trying her best to be stern but failed to have the proper effect on her soft voice.

"I know, mom, I know. You won't let me forget."

"I don't want you getting in trouble again, Dean. I'm serious."

"Trouble?" the word tumbled out of Cas' mouth before he could stop it.

Of course Dean had the "bad boy" reputation, and the stories that went with it. But a lot of them were either exaggerations or not true as far as he was aware.

"Yeah!" said Sam, thrilled about the topic of conversation. "Dean started skipping school a few months ago with his friends. Even the police got involved! It was very exciting!"

Mary scowled. "It wasn't 'exciting'. It worried me to no end. I was afraid that there'd be drugs and smoking involved. I didn't want my son going off the rails like Hester's did."

Dean remembered Naomi, the lanky brunette who always wore too much make up and skirts that could have passed for belts if dared to be tugged up any further. She'd been part of Crowley's 'crew', the 'other' friends, once but had completely overdosed on some kind of illegal drug that he couldn't recall the name of. After that incident, she never turned up at school again.

People liked to spread rumours, as all people do with these things, that she'd been sent to a mental hospital for crack addicts or been jailed for ten years, when in reality, her parents had just sent her to some boarding school out in the country where she would be far away from 'bad influences'. Mary met up with Naomi's mother often and would hear all about how her daughter was now doing brilliantly and getting good grades and was really turning her life around.

Dean wondered what the Niomi he knew would have to say about that.

Dean wasn't much of a fan of these catch-up's for his mother would come home asking if he liked the idea of going to posh boarding school too for some "much-needed fresh air".

"Oh. I see..." mumbled Cas, intrigued by the fact that Dean's actions had actually been as rebellious as his image. 

"It wasn't anything too serious," Dean jumped in quickly, "they're just over-exaggerating it."

"I'm pleased that he's got you, Cas. As soon as you stepped through that door, the first time I saw you- I had a good feeling. Thank you for looking after him." And Mary's words were not intended to be serious for she winked jokingly afterwards and chuckled softly to herself. But Dean's fingers tapped the back of Cas' hand to catch his attention under the table, and gave him one of the smallest yet sweetest smiles Castiel thinks had ever been thrown his way.

Sure, Dean had smiled at him before but they'd been playful and flirty, all bared teeth that spoke of trouble and heavy promises. This one looked more like he wanted to kiss him softly rather than devour him.

And the image of that look was always in his mind as their conversations continued and changed and everyone soon forgot what they'd been discussing previously. At some point, Mary had brought out the apple pie she'd made and everyone got a slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and everyone was equally as impressed by the baking as each other. Apparently, pie had always been Dean's favourite, and his lack of knowledge about that fact surprised all the members of his family, as it was something he went on about an awful lot of the time.

After pie, dancing had some how gotten involved when Dean brought down the Beatles tape for his mom who hmm'ed along to the songs as she washed the dirty dishes. The activity came to a stop sooner than it had started as John came up behind her and lead her over to the middle of the living room where he got her to dance to "Twist And Shout". And Dean had suddenly joined in, taking his mom's hand and letting her twirl around, and around, and around until she was breathless. And the whole time, Cas watched from the doorway, happy that they were happy. And Sam slept soundly on the sofa, completely oblivious to the events around him.

And it was half twelve by the time he decided to leave and hoped that he wouldn't get in trouble by his mum for turning up so late. They were the ones who told him he needed to go out more, maybe they'd be pleased.

"It's very chilly out here," observed Mary, her arms wrapping around herself. "You'll freeze! Maybe you should take a jacket or something..."

"I'll be fine," Cas reassured her, "it only takes me five minutes to walk to my house."

"Just borrow one of Dean's for safe measure- you don't want to catch a cold or anything." And so Dean and Cas had to make another trek up the stairs, their limbs aching from exhaustion.

"Will this one do?" Dean asked, holding up an item of clothing from out of his wardrobe.

Cas put it on without hesitation and he was suddenly aware of how cold he really had been now that his arms were inside the thick material.

The white and red baseball jumper was a little too big on him, he suspected all those times Dean had helped out his dad at the garage, he'd gained some muscles, something which Castiel lacked. But it was cosy despite it's loose fit, and spelt like Dean's hair product and mint toothpaste and a thick, musty scent he thought was probably cigarette smoke.

While he inspected it, Dean took the chance to kiss him because he could no longer resist it as much as he had last time. And Cas was surprised at the forwardness for a moment, not kissing back, and Dean had briefly considered pulling away before he'd felt movement.

Cas opened his mouth up invitingly for the tongue that prodded his lips, and as soon as it slipped inside, Dean let out a small moan from the back of his throat. Suddenly, the door thudded hard, and he realised it was because he'd moved Castiel against it who pulled away for a quick breath before going back to Dean's lips.

Dean's hands travelled everywhere, desperate for somewhere to land and he settled for hipbones, Cas' already threaded through the short hairs of his head. As he moved down, nuzzling his neck and nipping at the soft skin, those fingers tightened, obviously conflicted as to whether to move his head closer or away. And Dean smirked, pleased by the reaction; pleased by the soft little groans, and nuzzled the edge of the shirt away before latching onto the collar bone. He sucked as hard as possible, causing Cas to throw his head back and create another loud 'thud' against the door. And his teeth nipped the red skin before rolling his tongue over it soothingly.

And he continued this, choosing specific points on his neck that he knew would give a reaction. And when he pulled away and saw those few red marks, his chest rumbled, a possessive streak coming over him.

"I have to go, Dean." Cas reminded him, breathing uneven and hair sticking out in tufts.

He'd wanted to say "I know" but instead, he kissed him. And he kept his desires pressed down, leaving the interaction tasting sweet and innocent.

Thankfully, he thought Castiel understood what he was trying to say anyway. And they even kissed again on the doorstep, in the most gentle way Cas had ever been kissed in his life, and it left his head in a daze. He stood at the edge of the pavement, the tops of his shoes just peering over the edge as he checked the empty road for cars, feeling the stare on his back following him all the way home.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean honked the horn again.

"For goodness sake, Charlie!" He yelled at the house. "The movie will be over before we've even arrived!"

He'd been sat there the last ten minutes, and the waiting had made him restless. The only response he'd recieved had been nothing more than a: "Just hold on a sec, will you?!" out Charlie's bedroom window, and so when he saw the front door opening, he was fairly pleased.

Charlie stepped out first in a pair of pale denim shorts, a black leather jacket, a loose-fitting pink tshirt and pink trainers to match. Her red hair was left natural, her full fringe framing her face and when she noticed Dean checking her outfit, she gave him a flirty wink to which he laughed.

He remembered when he'd first met Charlie when he was thirteen and she'd been rebelious, cheeky and cute, and he'd developed a ridiculous crush on her. For a while, they did everything together, going out for ice cream on weekends and meeting up to watch movies at the pictures. When he'd finally gained enough confidence to asked her out at the age of fifteen, she'd laughed. He'd stood there for a few moments while she calmed herself down, and then explained to him that she was interested in girls rather than boys. He remembered feeling very confused, wondering how on Earth that worked, but he'd reminded himself that this was _Charlie_ and she was his best friend and so he could be okay with this.

He wanted to make some kind of comment back, like "looking good!", but the words got stuck in his throat as the second girl stepped out behind the door.

Long legs, a tight dress, black heels, black hair. Those were the words that came to mind as he thought of how to describe her. She stared at him intriguingly, her smokey eyes flickering up and down his body and then looking him with intensity. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

"Dean, this is Tessa," Charlie said as she climbed into the passenger side and the dark-haired girl slipped into the back. "Tessa, this is Dean."

"Pleased to meet you, Dean." Tessa said, her voice as smooth as silk.

"You too." He said, hoping he sounded casual.

"I like you're new girlfriend," Dean whispered to Charlie on the drive there.

"Oh! She's not my girlfriend," Charlie giggled. "She's a friend of my sisters, but Jo got called into work unexpectedly so Tessa's tagging along with me."

Dean grinned. "Great." He said, and caught Tessa's eye in the mirroe as he did so.

And Charlie smiled almost to herself and leaned over to him, whispering in his ear. "I know, she's hot right?"

 

Dean spent the entirety of the evening feeling very hot and bothered

For some stupid reason he'd found himself seated next to Tessa for a whole two hours. At one point, he'd even felt a hand snake around his knee and slowly creep it's way upwards, fingers pressing into his innner thighs. He pulled at the colour of his shirt, his throat suddenly very dry. If he had ever considered himself "forward", then this could easily pass as full-on harassment (not that he was complaining).

He knew that when Meg suggested they all go back to hers afterwards, he should have said no but he didn't. Instead, he sat in the middle of Meg's bedroom with his friends and Tessa.

And Tessa had already managed to slot herself into the group with ease. Crowley leared at her body whenever she moved, Meg discussed various lipsticks shades, and Charlie kept dropping hints to Dean about making a move before she got there first. Within in the first hour they were already calling her "Tess".

"How about we play a drinking game?" Meg suggested.

"Not everything we do has to involve us getting drunk." Charlie pointed out. "Why don't we use the wine for something else? Like spin the bottle or something?"

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm voting for Seven Minutes In Heaven." Crowley said, grinning at Tessa.

"Oh shut up and put that out, I don't want my parents questioning me about why my room smells like smoke when they get back." Meg snapped at him, grabbing the lit cigerette from between his fingers and flicking it out the window.

"Hey!" He protested but it was already too late.

"It's bad for your health, anyway."

"So, who goes first?" asked Tessa, placing the unopened bottle in the middle of their little circle.

"Me!" Crowley almost jumped out of skin as he reached forward and twisted his wrist, letting go of his hold as the bottle began to twirl round and round. "Typical." he muttered as the cap stopped to point at Charlie.

"So who's going to pick my dare?" she smiled, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I dare you to take off all your clothes and run into the middle of the road stark naked." Crowley answered almost immediatly, looking oddly proud of himself for thinking up such a thing.

"Can I not even keep my pants on?" she asked, already kicking off her shoes.

"I _guess_  so, but only because I'm feeling generous." He teased.

Charlie wasn't afraid, she stripped off in front of everyone without hesitation, leaving on her lacy black panties and purple bra and making her way out the room. "I didn't even think to put on matching underwear," Dean heard her grumble under her breath.

And they all leaned out Meg's bedroom window, watching as Charlie confidently paraded out into the street, bare-footed on the wet pavement.

"Come on!" Crowley shouted out at her. "Give us a show!"

As fearless as ever, Charlie stepped out into the deserted road and waved her arms around, swaying her hips without any coordination. The four of them burst into fits of hysterical laughter at the sight, and grinning wider, Charlie did funny little dance moves to please her audiance further.

"Get out the middle of the street, young lady!" Came a sudden, snappish voice out of nowhere and Meg almost fell over with how hard she was laughing. "Or I'll call your mother!"

Charlie seemed to find it funny too for she was giggling as she run back into the security of the house, breathless and red in the face.

"There." She stated as she paraded into the bedroom, picking up her t-shirt and pulling it over her head.

"That's my girl." Meg praised, giving Charlie a light pat on the back.

"So do I get to spin it now?" Charlie asked as she buttoned up her shorts. She reached over and gave the bottle a flick, setting it spinning.

"I guess it's too late for you answer now." Tessa laughed, and everyone joined her.

 

The game continued just like that, each ridiculous dare seeming funnier than the last.

And when it landed on Dean, Charlie was quick to make her input, daring him to step outisde and let Tessa do whatever she want with him for five whole minutes.

"That's not fair!" Crowley protested.

"No one cares what you think." Charlie said and then turned to Dean giving him a playful smile. "Go ahead. Enjoy." and as he stood up, whispered, "you can thank me later."

Dean's hands clenched into fists, not out of anger, but because he felt like he needed to keep himself together as he made his way out the door, Tessa following. She had barely closed the door before she turned and pinned him up against the wall looking positively predatory. He wasn't sure he should be aroused or scared.

"Don't worry," she told him, her voice lower than normal. "I'll be gentle."

It'd be _ages_ since Dean had last kissed a girl and as soon as Tessa pressed her lips to his, the first things he thought was how small and soft they were. It was odd, but not unpleasent and he eagerly kissed back, interested in tasting the sweetness of her. He guessed he must have still had the knack, for when he swiftly switched their positions, turning him into the more dominant one, she moaned loudly.

That's when Cas came to his mind.

He began to notice the differences, and the feel of the flesh felt alien, as Tessa let him unzip the back of her dress, his hands stroking the smooth skin of her back. The squeeze of her legs, the smooth curves and the weight of the body pinned against his- was different. He was intrigued by the taste of cherry-scented lipstick and plastic tinge of cheap gum.

His brain was dizzy and confused, desperately trying to wrap itself around what was happening. How many times had him and Cas been in this position? The stolen moments in empty corridors and store cupboards; quietly in the safety of his bedroom or standing in the middle of the street when walking Cas home, hoping that no one would see them.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, pulling away.

Dean was surprised by the question. "No, um, no. Why?"

But she didn't respond, instead she just shook her head and attacked his mouth again, sucking on his bottom lip and wiggling so that her dress fell down enough to expose her naked chest. He didn't get a chance to even look as she worked her way to Dean's ear, gnawing at the lobe. "Maybe, if we don't go back in they'll get the message?" She suggested, her voice tempting him. "We could go find a room... they won't come looking for us."

"I don't know..." he began but she cut him off, rolling her tongue around the inside of his ear.

"I've had my eye on you all night..." she drawled. "I was just hoping we might get a chance like this and we could..." she moaned slightly, breathing heavy and loud, giving him a vivid picture of what she was implying. "I'll make it good. So good..." she promised, over and over.

And Dean didn't answer, instead distracting her by nibbling at her throat, her head falling back to expose more of her flesh for him. And he kept his eyes tightly closed, feeling his way around, trying not to think about much at all.

"Dean?" She whispered, as he pulled her dress down a bit further, his hands feeling a little clumbsy without being able to see what he was doing. When he didn't respond, she lifted her hands from his back to grab hold of the side of his face, forcing him to face her. He opened his eyes slowly, Tessa's green ones staring back at him intensly. "Dean. D'you want to?"

They stayed like that for a little while, searching for an answer in one another. And Dean felt uncomfortable, his heart pounding loudly in his chest, and he wondered where the blue iris' he was used to see looking at him in such ways, were. "No." He finally replied. The word was small and quiet. Part of him hoped that she hadn't heard him.

The teasing stopped suddenly, and Tessa's expression darkened. She pressed her cheek right against the side of his face, her hand clamping around one of his wrists and guiding it between them, lingering right underneath her dress, luring him in. "What do you mean- no?" It sounded more like a hiss than a proper sentence.

He swallowed, closing his eyes. What an idiot. "Exactly what you think I mean. No." He could feel the confidence that presented itself with him this time.

Suddenly, it felt like everything had evaporated as she let go of her hold and pushed him away. She grabbed the top of her dress, pulling it up to cover her breasts. "You absoulte dick." She snapped, reaching back to tug at the zip.

He tried to ignore the insult and frowned. "Do you want a hand with that?"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing it by myself." Although it was obvious she was struggling.

He pulled his t-shirt back down over his exposed stomach, rolling his eyes. He was probably going to hate himself for his decision later.

Leaving her zip half open, Tessa grabbed her heels from the floor and sauntered off back into the bedroom without a second look back. The last thing he heard was "Jerk!" before the door slammed loudly in his face.

 

* * *

 

"Idiot. Complete and utter idiot." Castiel heard Anna mutter as he took a seat beside her.

"Who are you talking about?" He asked, opening his can of soda.

"Dean Winchester." Chuck sighed. "The guy Anna has fanced for ages."

"Don't you mock me," she pouted, giving him a gentle smack on his arm. "we've known each other for like, six years. He's bound to come around some day." To this, he just laughed.

Cas laughed softly, taking a sip of his drink. "What terrible thing has he done to you that deserves you calling him names?"

"He hasn't done anything wrong," Chuck commented before Anna could. "She's just jealous."

That spiked his curiousity. "Jealous?"

"Shut up, Chuck. You have no idea what you're talking about." Anna snapped and turned her back on him completely to face Cas as she spoke. "Dean Winchester had sex with this girl at a party on Saturday. That's it."

Castiel felt his stomach drop all the way to the floor. "What?"

"She was nineteen," Chuck said, eyes widening.

"A complete scandal." Anna nodded.

"Are you sure it's true? People make up rumours all the time, you know?" Cas pointed out, voice noticeably quieter. Dean would never have done something like that without saying anything.

"Oh of course! I would never come up with something like that if it wasn't." She said, hand pressing against her chest. "I heard Meg Masters talking about it to some of her friends in Maths. It was a dare that just _happened_ to spiral out of control." She snorted, her tone thick with sarcasim.

HE suddenly felt very sick, the taste of his soda too sweet and sticky. He felt it bubbling away inside him, threatening to bring itself back up.

"Apparently the did it right there in the hallway and everyone else was in the next room." Anna continued, unaware of Cas' discomfort. "Meg told everyone that they were very loud about it all. Fergus Crowley was going to record it and glue the tape into Dean's car so that he'd be forced to listen to it wherever he goes." And Cas was suddenly hit was a horrednous vision of sitting in the Impala, the sound of this girls voice playing in the background as they drove. "They seem to find it oh-so funny but I think it's disgusting."

"Of course you do," Chuck interupted, and Cas was grateful for the end of her blabbering. "You're mad because it wasn't you."

Anna blushed. "I'm not mad. I'm just concerned about the behaviour of one of the most popular students in the school. He's setting such a bad reputation for the new freshmen." Chuck rolled his eyes and she sent him a glare. "Dean Winchester is none of my buisness and he can have sex with whomever he wishes, thank you. I'm _completely_ fine." But the way she stabbed her straw into her juice carton betrayed her words entirely.

Anna's actions were making Cas feel even queasier than before and he pressed into his stomach as if he's been shot in the gut. It felt like it.

"I think I'm going to have to go." He rushed, and he got up and headed straight for the double doors, clutching at his sides as if he was the only thing keeping himself up, leaving his friends looking questioningly after him.

As he made his way through he school all he could think about was the fact that Dean had had sex with a girl. Not him. A _girl_. And he imagined she was cool and attractive with an edgey attitude, because that's the kind of girls Dean would have sex with, the kind of girls that Dean would chose over him. And it shouldn't bother him as much as it was because it wasn't like Dean had _cheated_ on him.

 _Fooling around_ , he recalled, and yet he'd stupidly thought that perhaps it was starting to become more than that. He even had Dean's jacket folded up in his locker, ready to hand to him at the end of the day when he was supposed to be getting a lift home. Maybe he'd walk instead.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps coming after him.

"Cas?" Came a concerned voice behind him. He ignored it. "Cas, come back. What's wrong?" Dean's pace became faster and Cas realised he was running after him.

So he made an exit outside, knowing that he wasn't going to go that far as in to catch him.

His anger was irriational. If Dean wanted to go have one-night-stands then he could, it wasn't in his place to stop him. But that didn't prevent him from crying, pathetically sitting himself under a tree and bringing his knees up to his chest. It brang around an odd feeling of nostalgia, remembering how many times he'd done this when he was little and nobody wanted to talk to him.

Dean didn't go after him. There was no point in trying. He stood in the empty hall, breathing heavy, watching the doors swing on their own from Cas' exit.

"Dean?" It was Charlie, brow furrowed in worry as she placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why did you just leave like that? Is everything alright?"

And he looked at her, saw the sincerety of the question and pulled her into a tight hug. "No." He said, and the word tasted sour on his tongue. "No, it's not."


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel did his best to avoid Dean for three weeks.

Three very, very long weeks.

It was easier than expected considering they'd never interacted in front on others before, never even talked on their way to classes, and so Dean did not make any obvious moves in public. There'd been an attempt to corner him in the back of the library once but Cas had simply turned his back and walked away, leaving Dean still confused as to what he'd done to have deserved such treatment.

And yet, Dean always waited behind after school, waiting for Cas to appear out the building and accept his offer of a lift home. But every time Cas blanked him completely, taking a ride from one of his friends instead. On the drives home, Sam would comment on how aggitated Dean seemed lately and wondered aloud where Cas was, mentioning how it was weird that he had been absent lately.

"He's just busy.". Dean had told him.

"Too busy for us?" Sam inquired.

"Something like that." And Sam had been smart enough to know that he should drop the subject.

Even his mom was curious, asking every evening how Cas was and if he wanted to come over for dinner some time. And he settled for simple answers like "good" and "maybe". After a while, he decided to try and replace his mothers attention with someone else. This was a lot harder than first thought, considering only Meg had been free around that particular time and her surly and bitter attitude had not gone down particularly well with any member of his family.

Maybe it was stupid, but his annoyance was made worse when he noticed how happy Cas looked, always smiling to himself or laughing with friends. It was as if it made no difference to his life whether Dean was there or not.

Most of all, he was clueless as to what had happened that had caused this sudden split between them.

He couldn't recall having ever done anything that would have enough of an affect to do such a thing. It wasn't as if Castiel was someone who was prone to holding a grudge, in fact, if Dean knew the boy at all then he was positive that he was anything but that.

Granted, Dean had never been one for 'feelings". He'd always been fairly emotionally stunted when it came to relationships, even back when he was younger and got his first girlfriend and didn't care that she saw him wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, disgusted, straight after she'd kissed him. Screw the whole idea that sex was supposed to be something specail with someone you loved, Dean had had more one-night-stands than he cared to count. Thankfully, he at least had the excuse that they were all at those big house parties, and like everyone else he had been drunk and a little heated and there was always an empty room avaliable upstairs.

That's why Cas was so specail. Because he was the only person who'd ever made Dean actually "feel" something. And it'd taken him so ridiculously long to realise that, that his chance to tell him was gone.

And Cas tried to keep his mind off of Dean, distracting himself through doing hours of school work and spending more of his free time with Anna and Chuck, the friends who he's almost completely dismissed when Dean had been around. Unfortunatly Anna's, slightly creepy, obsession with the "illustrious" Dean Winchester was not at all helpful.

"Can I tell you something, guys?" She'd said one time when the three of them sat on the dock at the harbour.

"Go ahead." Chuck encouraged, sighing.

"I think Dean's finally starting to like me, like, you know? Fancy me?" She told them, and she scowled as she caught Chuck rolling his eyes. "We're having to work together as lab partners in chemistry and he's very quiet but very nice to me. Sometimes I even catch him looking at me when I pass him in the carpark or even across the cafateria."

Cas had also noticed the staring but was well aware that it wasn't Anna who he'd be focusing on.

"You're ridiculous." Chuck said blandly. "He's already got plenty girls after him, I doubt that he thinks of you much more than he does any more than the others."

"I don't know," she sighed wistfully, "I believe he's very unexpected."

 

 

One afternoon, when Castiel had been stuffing his books into his locker and the door had suddenly slammed shut right in his face, he'd figured Dean would be the culprit. And he took a deep breath, ready to face an irritated character, and provide whatever answers were required in order to get him to leave. Instead, leaning against the dented red doors, was a pretty red-headed girl who grinned when she saw his confused expression.

"You're Cas, right?" she asked him, folding her arms over her chest and looking him up-and-down breifly.

He hesitated a moment. "Yeah. That's me." He replied, feeling incredibly self-concious that a girl was showing such an interest in him.

"Great!" He was surprised that she seemed genuinly enthustiastic by this. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Um, no... no I don't. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you want to meet me in the diner tonight? Around about six o'clock. I'll pay."

He blinked, his eyes wide. "You want to meet me at the diner tonight?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, yeah, that's what I said?" and she laughed, some how amused by the conversation. "So I'll see you there?"

"You'll see me there." Cas confirmed.

"Good. I'm Charlie, by the way." She offered her hand out to him which he politely shook.

"It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." and she winked before walking off, looking very cool and collected as she made her way down the busy corridor without a backwards glance.

 

 

As soon as Castiel entered the diner and looked around, panic alarms rang off in his head, telling him to get out and go. In the booth at the back was Charlie, and straight across from her, Dean. And from what Cas could see, both of them were laughing over something on the menu, seeming very relaxed and at ease with one another.

Perhaps this had been a mistake. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be here.

But as soon as he started to retrace his steps back outside, Charlie looked up and gave him a big, familiar smile, as if they's known each other for years.

"Hey Cas!" She almost shouted, waving one of her hands in the air, and Cas felt his face heat up. "Over here- we saved a seat!"

Dean turned his head to look at him, giving him a small, cautious smile. Castiel wanted to pretend that he hadn't noticed, or maybe just ignore it all together, but the best he could muster was scowl. He'd never been a bitter person and he refused to let Dean Winchester turn him into one.

So he carefully made his way over to them, his head held high, and when Charlie gestured for him to slide in beside Dean, he did so without hesitation or complaint. The two of them grinned at him, obviously pleased with his cooperation.

"I'm so glad you could join us," Charlie said as she dug her spoon into her ice cream. "We got you one of these too, we just waited for you to turn up before we started eating."

"Thank you." Cas said as he stared at the large sundae sitting in front of him, the cherry on top sitting wonky on the melting ice cream. He gently pulled it closer and picked up the spoon lying beside it, poised over the top. "I didn't know there was going to be extra company."

Dean stiffened at the harsh tone of Cas' voice. He'd never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"It was a surprise." Charlie told him, and gave Dean a reassuring glance. "I felt like it was time we all got together considering we've never really met or anything."

"You wanted to meet me?" Castiel asked, suprised.

"Of course! Dean's told me all about you and I just had to get to know the charmer for myself." She threw a wink at him, an action he was beginning to realise, was some kind of trademark for her.

"You told her?" Dean felt eyes land on him, and the stare wasn't so much loathsome as curious.

"Well, he's managed to keep it from me for the past few months. I didn't know until a few days ago. Can you believe it?! Him keeping secrets from me?" Charlie snorted, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. "Buttt" she continued, "I heard that for some reason, someone's been a little grumpy."

Castiel fidgeted uncomfortably, chosing to look at the scratched table-top instead of the questioning eyes trained on him. Guilt twisted his stomach into a tight knot. "Oh."

"Oh?! That's the only answer you have for me? What's up with that?" Charlie's tone wasn't spiteful but it certainly had the desired affect.

"I just..." Cas sucked in a breath, debating on what to say. He was well aware of Dean's intense concentration on the conversation. "I'm just angry."

"Why?" asked Dean, brow furrowed.

Cas glanced up for a moment, catching Dean's stare. He looked away again, feeling sick. "It's nothing. I'm just being stupid."

"Oh, shut up, Cas." Charlie said, scowling. "Don't be ridiculous." And from the corner of his eye, he saw Dean throw a threatening look at her.

"I'm jealous, I suppose..." He murmmered, and Dean's head snapped round again, focus completely on him. He felt the blush crawl up his chest.

"I knew I'd get him talking." Charlie whispered, but everyone ignored it.

"I'm jealous because you went off and had sex with some girl." He stated, blandly, hoping his tone would give the impression that he was not willing to into the subject.

The atmosphere did not turn tense or awkward as he'd first expected, for Charlie burst into a fit of laughter and pointed at Dean as if mocking him. And Dean looked relieved, laughing along with her softly.

"What's so funny?" asked Castiel, feeling a little hurt and confused.

"Dean didn't do anything with Tessa, for God sakes." Charlie said between breaths. "He totally screwed up that one."

"Hey!" Dean protested, but it was a half-hearted attempt at sounding angry. "Okay, maybe I did mess it up a little."

"A little? You straight-up regected her and right in front of her face, aswell! She said that you were a dick and she didn't understand how you could resist her. But I think I know why." And Charlie glanced in Castiel's direction quickly before looking back at Dean. "Don't you?"

Cas wasn't entirely sure what to do with this new information. He'd completely over-reacted, even more so than he'd first expected, and he felt stupid for it. Dean had totally denied himself of some easy pleasure because of Cas who had been more than a little unappreciative.

"Shut up." Dean told her, jokingly.

"Don't you snap at me." she warned. "You see how easy this was? You need to grow some balls and ask him for answers yourself."

"That's what this was?" Cas asked in all seriousness. "You weren't actually asking me out on a date?"

And that set Charlie of laughing again, and she gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "I like you- you're funny."

On the way home, Dean let Charlie chose the music and didn't seem to mind when she chose a radio station that seemed to consist of nothing more than a constant loop of cheesy pop songs.

Castiel was intrigued by Charlie.

She was rebellious but considerate; cute but cool, and came with a careless attitude and aura that made you feel oddly relaxed when standing in her presence. She was also the only person Dean let boss him around, or steal his food, or let touch his cars radio, for that matter. Cas wondered if it was because she was almost like the female version of Dean, only with a little more bark.

When she left, she stood on the doorstep and to Dean, said: "Later, bitch." and then proceeded to blow a kiss in Cas' direction. Cas hoped that the dark pink stains on his cheeks were not noticeable in the darkness.

"I'm glad you met Charlie." Dean told him as they headed to Cas' house. "She's the nicest of any of my friends, despite what you might think. But she loves you- I can just tell."

"She's lovely- I can see why you like her so much. She reminds me a bit of you, actually."

"Really?" Dean smiled, as he pulled up beside of the pavement.

"Yeah. Very much so. Probably because you're both sarcastic assholes." Cas mused and Dean chuckled as he turned the music down completely until it was only a quiet buzz in the background.

"I'm sorry about what happened, Cas." Dean murmed, the tone suddenly serious. "I never meant to upset you."

Cas shook his head. "I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm sorry for being over-dramatic. I'm sorry I made you worry. I'm sorry that I-" But he couldn't continue appologising for his mistakes because that's when Dean interuppted, and kissed him.

He'd almost forgotten how much he'd loved kissing Dean.

"Stop saying sorry." Dean mumbled, pressing their foreheads together as he snaked his fingers through the thick locks of Cas' hair.

"Sorry."

There was scilence, nothing more than the sound of their breathing.

"I don't get it." Dean said, as if he'd not heard Cas' attempt at humour. "How could you think that I'd ever chose anyone else when I have you."

And now it was Castiel's turn to kiss Dean, and he feel dizzy and reckless as he did so, and he hoped that it said everything he was thinking in that moment.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he pulled away, "I'm afraid I couldn't help myself."


	6. Chapter 6

Dean imagined that asking Cas out would have been much more of a big deal than it really was. It happened in a very similar way to their first conversation all those months ago in the deserted car park outside of that deserted store, but Dean spoke with confidence this time and Cas said yes without even a hint of hesitation.

And afterwards it was not so much "sex" as it was love-making, as prissy as the term sounded. Normally, those days in the backseat were very hot and heavy and rough, but this was slow and sweet, and Dean was determind to show Cas just how much he loved him. And this time there were no harsh burns from the leather or bruises from eager hands.

Dean seemed to have forgotten what it was like to be in a relationship.

That things like unexpected kisses and hand-holding were involved. They weren't often, what with public displays of affection being labelled as "too risky", but sometimes their fingers would entwine under tabels and hugs were acceptable anywhere because they could easily be pulled off as platonic.

When Charlie found out she was thrilled, and gave Cas a large hug and a kiss on the cheek which made his ears turn pink. Dean was equally as happy at the fact that Charlie had been so accepting of it and had been so accepting of Castiel. If it had not been for Dean he doubted that she would have ever met Cas, which was such an odd thought seeing them together now.

And he hated to admit it, but Dean got jealous at how completely careless she was with Cas, not caring when people adverted questioning looks at them as they comfortably talked together at lunchtimes or got him to come sit at their lunch table. Sometimes she would even be as brave as to loop her arm through his when she was in a particularly good mood.

"Who the hell is this?" Meg had asked as she took her usual seat on the first day when she found Castiel sitting across from her, looking nervous.

"This is Cas," Dean said, taking his chance to not-care. "He's a friend of mine."

Meg frowned. "Do I recgonise you from somewhere?"

Cas, already looking very uncomfortable in being part of some place where he did not belong, replied hastily. "No, I don't think so."

And she stared him down for a minute before finally flashing him a grin. "Welcome," she spoke in her slow southern drawl, "but I'm afraid to say that Crowley will not not be pleased to find that you've taken his seat." She smirked, and then licked her lips in an action that was far too obvious to pass as an absent-minded habit.

Dean was more than aware that Meg flirted with any boy with a pretty face, but this did not stop him from feeling slightly worried, and he slid his hand onto Cas' knee, squeezing gently just to remind him that Dean was still there.

That night, Mary was pleased to find Cas turning up at the door with her sons, appearing bright-eyed and smiling. She hoped that this was because he was being to feel at home here, and she gave him her most warming smile and greeted him like he was one of her own, pulling him into a tight embrace. And when she wrapped her arms around him, she realised that the marerial beneath her skin was the smooth cotton of one of Dean's jackets and Cas felt her smiling into his shoulder.

"You boys are later than usual." She observed and Sam grinned, exposing bloody teeth.

"Don't worry, mom." Sam told her calmly as she gasped at the sight, looking panic-stricken. "Some boys started on me but Dean beat them up."

Mary turned to scowl at Dean. "Why are you looking at me like that?!" He chuckled. "I saved Sammy from a serious fight."

"It was really cool!" His younger brother piped up. "They ran off as soon as they saw him!" and then he snorted. "Whimps."

Not seeming to detect anything funny in the situation, Mary placed a firm hand on his back. "Lets just go get you cleaned up."

Mary sighed, leading her youngest to the kitchen, leaving Dean and Cas to make their way up to Dean's room.

As soon as they stepped in, Dean closed the door and dropped his bag to the floor and grabbed Cas by the shoulders, spinning him round to face him.

"De-" Cas began but Dean cut him off, busying his lips with his. And Cas automatically let go of his grip on his books and his arms linked themselves around Dean's neck, pulling him closer.

And Dean "mmm" 'd into the kiss, smiling as Cas gave a little gasp at the noise. He slid his hands underneath the too-big jacket, resting his palms on Cas' hips and shifting his waist so it pressed right up against his own.

Dean pulled away slowly, causing Cas let out a protesting whimper.

"I've been waiting to do that all day... ever since I saw you wearing my jacket." Dean murmmered, nipping Cas' bottom lip with his teeth. "How dare you." And his hands travelled up and down before curling around his shoulders and slowly pushing the jacket off, and it slipped off Cas' arms with ease, landing quietly behind him. And then Dean's fingertips played with the bottom of Cas' tshirt, slowly pulling it up his stomach, smiling into the kiss as he did so.

But before it could get to the good stuff, there was an impatient knock on the door and a small: "Mom isn't happy with you, Dean. She's told me that you have to come help me out with my History essay considering you seem to love the subject so much." And Dean was fuming at his little brother for ruining the moment but Cas, for some reason, seemed to find it absolutely hilarious.

And Dean finally met Cas' family, and it was frosty day in December and the whole house was warm and festive, a big sparkling tree sitting in the corner of the living room. Cas' family was small, just him and his older brother Gabriel and his mom, Abigial, who was so much like Castiel in the way he acted and spoke.

Abigial was very relaxed and easy, speaking so comfortablly to Dean as if she'd known him for years. She also very was youthful, her complection flawed by only the crinkles around her eyes brought on from laughing too much. And this surprised him for she always appeared to be worrying about something.

At the table, she was always telling Gabriel to roll up his sleeves or for Cas to smooth down a tuft of hair and asking Dean if the food was okay, never seeming content with his "it's perfect, don't worry." And Cas had made it a hundred times worse when he'd thought to mention that "Dean will eat anything no matter how bad it tastes.", thinking that it'd some-how sooth his mother's fears.

"You're family are nice." Dean said, as him and Cas sat on the sofa watching a movie, his fingers stroking Cas' hair.

"I guess so." Cas mumbled, too caught up in the movie rather than what Dean was saying to him. "It's not an awful lot, but I guess it's okay."

And Dean found himself wondering about him and Cas maybe having a family one day. Perhaps they would adopt if they ever decided they wanted kids. And he quickly discovered the fact that _he_  was the one preventing Cas from ever experiencing having his very own baby, that would have _his_ blue eyes and smile and thick hair. _Dean_ was the one preventing him from ever settling down happily with a loving wife, and children, and a dream house complete with a back garden and a white picket fence.

He tried his best to push his worries down to a place where he'd forget about them. But they constantly played in the back of his mind, tormenting him.

He spent nights aching over it, and every time he touched Cas, he felt terrified of hurting him. The kind of love that clouded those blue eyes every time they looked at Dean, made his stomach knot sickeningly. And it got to the point where he ended up having to voice his cocerns to Charlie.

"Dean, if you think that Cas thinks that you're no good for him, then you're stupid."

She told him simply and realising this was not the time to be sarcastic, softened her tone. "He adores you." She sighed, laying a hand comfortingly on his forearm. "Stop worrying so much and enjoy it."

But Dean could not enjoy it. "What if I screw it up? What if he suddenly realises I'm no good?"

And Charlie rolled her eyes, the whole situation seeming completely ridiculous to her. "You won't let yourself fuck this up. I know you won't." She reassured him.

"How can you be sure of that?"

"Because if you ever broke his heart then I'd kick your ass for it."

 

 

"There's something different about you," Cas mentioned to him as they sat on a wall on the outskirts of town, eating ice cream.

"What do you mean?" He replied, hoping he sounded teasing.

"I mean, you've been acting a little odd lately."

"Odd how?"

Cas froze at the question and he stared, unblinking, at Dean as he racked his head for the right answer. "I..." and he sighed slightly, lowering his ice cream from his mouth. "I mean that you've been acting odd around me. You look at me differently."

Dean laughed nervously, attempting to ignore his discomfort. "No I don't." He said but Cas' face dropped at the response. Maybe he could detect the false tone. "I promise." He added softly.

Cas' eyes lit up for a moment, perhaps with a spark of hope but it seemed to dim almost immediatly. "You do know that I can tell when you're lying, right?"

And Dean refused to answer, instead settling on distracting him with a dirty kiss, licking and tasting the strawberry ice cream from inside his mouth. And it sent his whole head spinning enough to forget about the conversation.

Cas knew Dean. He was sure he knew Dean better than he even knew himself.

Dean was sweet, and a tease, and a show-off, and a little rough around the edges, and a liar and a bad one at that.

And it hurt when Dean gave a him a false promise, expecting him not to notice that something was completely off-key.

It had happened a week or two ago, and at first it was only a few small things. Those were generally a lack of hugs; the hesitation before he touched Cas in the most innoncent ways like caressing his arm or hands. And then it gradually expanded, and kissing became "formal" again as it had started off when they'd been 'screwing around', kept for the janitors closet and the Impala. And he was probably over-reacting but it was making him feel awful.

Eventually, Dean was barely even looking at him, or at least in the way he liked.

"Hey Meg?" He asked one lunchtime, as they sat out in the park across the road. Everyone else was off messing about playing tag like a bunch of six-year-olds.

"Yeah?" she replied, lowering her cigerette and blowing the smoke out her mouth in one long puff.

"How do you get so many people to like you?" And she burst out laughing, making him suddenly feel very silly about asking.

"Oh, honey." She smiled and then flicked her eyes up to meet his. "It's all about how you present yourself."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, first of all, this," she said, grabbing his ahold of his tie, "is not acceptable." He noticed how close she was getting, her breath dancing on his lips. "You have to seem endearing... enticing..." He swallowed nervously, staying incrediably still as the gap between their faces closed to a millimetre. "Then again, some people really go for the innoncent look." And she kissed him. Right there and then, and all he could taste was smoke and ash.

And she broke it off, laughing and stepping away to create some distance between them, playfully flicking the daisy headband Charlie had made him earlier.. "See what I mean?! Enticing. You couldn't say no." She told him, taking a long pull of her cigerette.

If Cas had been aware of her intentions then he probably would have said no, but it's not like he was going to tell her that. Instead, he nodded and said 'thank you' and headed off back to school by himself. And no one seemed to notice he'd left.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, um, Anna?" Dean said, not entirely sure he even had the name right.

The red-head turned around at the sound of her name, her mouth hanging open like she'd already prepared her answer. It snapped shut quickly, her eyes widening and Dean felt incredibly uncomfortable with her staring at him like that.

"It is, Anna- right?" He asked, hoping that she would snap out of it.

"Oh, yes! Yes, that's me! Anna Milton... and you're Dean Winchester." Her grin was big and wide, her breathing a little off. He vagualey recollected Castiel's warning about her and her antics, and Dean was already regretting having approached her in the first place. "And you want something off of me? From me? Or?" She continued, looking at him expectantly.

"I just wanted to know if you'd seen Cas lately? I've noticed he's been going with you home, lately, but he just kind of _disappeared_ at lunch today and I don't know where he's gone off too." Dean noticed her spark of hope falter a little at his words.

"Oh." She said dully. "Castiel? Well... I actually saw him earlier- if that helps? He seemed to be in a bit of a rush, actually... He didn't even say goodbye! I guess he's walking today." It was obvious she was making her sentences sound far more exciting than they really were, perhaps expressing how much of an interest she also shared with this situation.

Dean was a little taken back by the news. More and more often it seemed Cas had been making his own way home. No. More like Dean had been  _making_ him make his own way home. And his stomach twisted in guilt. Driving away had been a lot easier than taking Cas with them and fucking in the back of the car, because he didn't need to  _need_ Cas any more. At least, he didn't want to. He didn't want to fall in too deep or ruin him.

"Okay... thanks." He said, and Anna laid a hand on his forearm and looked at him sadly.

"I'm sure you'll see him tomorrow." She reassured him and then smiled. "But, if you're not busy at the moment then I could sure do with a ride?"

Dean frowned and looked up behind her to where a scruffy-looking boy leaned against a small yellow car, staring at his watch frustradely.  _Chuck_ , Dean thought, recalling the name Cas had told him. He looked back down at Anna. "Do you not already have one?"

She blinked rapidly, as if coming to sudden realisation and blushed. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind..."

"Good-bye, Anna." He chuckled, taking her wrist gently and pulling her hand away, letting it drop back to her side.

And he walked back to his own car, knowing that Sam would probably be angry with him for making him wait so long. In the background he heard the distinct noise of someone getting smacked across the head with something hard. "You didn't have to stick around, Chuck! You could have at least realised that this was my big chance! You're ridiculous."

Dean sighed.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it's taken me a little longer than usual to update this time, I've been quite busy and it didn't help that this chapter was one that I was unsure how to write. Knowing me, I'll probably end up editing it again later on. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> This chapter and the next few following were written listening to "Things We Lost In The Fire" by Janet Devlin and "Smother" by Daughter, if you wanted the full effect. Not that this isn't already depressing enough.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

The next morning as they stood outside the school gates, Crowley suggested that Cas attend one of their parties. Not just a silly little thing on a Saturday evening, but a full-on party with lots of people, and alcohol, and loud music.

"Have you ever been to something like that before?" Crowley asked him.

Dean's eyes flickered up, meeting Cas' with a look that caused him to pull at the collor of his tshirt, which had suddenly felt incredibly tight around his throat. He'd paid an awful lot of attention when choosing what to wear this morning. Maybe it was silly but he didn't think it would hurt to try out Meg's advice, just to see if it made any difference. He'd left his hair dry naturally after showering, the thick dark locks flopping over his forehead and curling at the ends, making it look messy and tousled which he hoped looked cool. And instead of a shirt, he wore a loose pale blue t-shirt and the wind sneaked its way up there and made his front cold, and an old worn watch that he was told once belonged to his dad's. To top it all off, he'd even opted to wear Dean's jumper just to see if it'd bring him the right attention if all else failed. So far, it seemed to be working.

Dean noticed the effect his look had on him and smirked to himself as he adverted his gaze back down at his feet.

"Um, yes." Cas stuttered, hoping that his embarassment wasn't so obvious to the others. "Yes I have, actually."

And Crowley seemed completely unaware of anything amiss. "Great."

The rest of the day continued on for what seemed like ages, but Cas suspected that it probably had something to do with Dean's teasing.

Passing in the corridors, Dean sent him certain looks that made it considerably difficult to concentrate on where he was headed. And at the lunch table, stroking his hands up and down Cas' leg, travelling to the inside of his thigh and smiling like he enjoyed the way Cas was squirming underneath his secretive touching.

This was odd, Cas thought to himself as he sat in the back of the Impala, well aware of Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror. Weeks of drifting apart, being pushed away without reason. He'd found himself drowning in school work to keep distracted, not confronting the situation as he probably should of.

Dean was popular. He had a social life to keep going and friends to keep happy and sports to play. He was busy. He couldn't just blow everything off for Cas.

But it was nice that Dean had offered him a lift today, after days of Cas having to walk himself home or grabbing a lift from Anna. He was tired of hearing her constant complaining, it didn't seem to matter about what day it was- there always seemed to be something bothering her from boys at school to a stone in her shoe. If it hadn't been such miserable weather, he would have made the journey alone.

As they pulled up outside Dean's house and cut the engine, any flicker of hope he'd had dwindled a little. Maybe this was just his way of saying sorry.

Cas reached for his bag but he heard Dean whisper "you won't need that" and let go.

Sam had already disappeared into the house by the time Cas had gotten out the car, and he made his way round the back to the pavement where Dean stood. His whole posture was fairly casual with his hands tucked neatly in his pockets, one leg slightly pointing outwards, and he grinned as he looked him up and down in a way that made Cas feel incredibly self-concious without the safety of his books.

Suddenly, he discovered the two hands on either side of his face and his back pressed against the coolness of the windows, and he was kissing. And it wasn't a few playful nips as they so often began with on nights like this, but hot and heavy and eager. And Cas let himself relax, the tension ebbing out of him with every movement as another body moulded itself against his in a way that he'd found himself craving for, lately.

His senses seemed to go into over-drive at the realisation that they were being tampered with. And _Dean_ was the only sound going through his mind, bouncing off the inside of his head like an alarm.

And one of Dean's hands stroked through the layers of Cas' hair, making little pleased noises with every movement.

"I like your hair like this." He pratically hummed. "It suits you."

And Cas' heart raced at the thought that Dean had noticed the difference, had even taken a moment to comment on it. He shoved himself more forcefully at Dean as a thank-you for the compliment.

His hands fluttered about from his waist to his arms and neck and all over, just happy that they were able to touch Dean again in this way. And Dean seemed equally as thrilled as he rolled his hips against Cas', causing him to whimper pathetically, but Cas was too busy enjoying this to care how needy he sounded.

A small part of him protested against his behaviour- shouting at him to pull himself away and demand for the explaination he right disevered. Although Castiel agreed that it was a logical and sensible idea, it was hard to do so when the bait was being thrust at you so generously, practically offering itself up to use for as much satisfaction as desired. He wasn't one to deny himself of such a luxury.

And one of Dean's hand's travelled down Cas' stomach, fingers trailing between the gap of the waistband of his boxer shorts and skin. He let go with a loud "pop", which made Cas jump a little and he chuckled darkly at the reaction.

"You do know..." Cas panted. "That we're standing in the middle of the street where anyone can see us?"

"Let them look." Dean murmmered, his hand trying to head down further. And Cas didn't even disgaree with the statement, but he felt the worry tighten a stiff and un-easy knot in his limbs. "Okay then... would you like to come in?" Dean asked, and the hand he offered was taken immediatly.

Cas wasn't entirely sure what had come over Dean all of sudden- why ever touch seemed to mean something more.

When he kissed his way down Cas' stomach and whispered _I love you _'s,_ _ and made sure that he was looking at Cas when he came undone, catching the look in those blue eyes eyes as he broke. And when Cas had copied those three little words, Dean had groaned in response, and he used this information to continue murming the same phrase over and over.

After they were done, Dean had pinned Cas back down and kissed him slowly.

"I really do love you, Cas. I don't think I tell you enough." He'd said, and Cas _mmm_ 'd in agreement, too blissed to say anything more.

And he was pleased to find himself waking up to Dean hours later; in  _his_ room, in  _his_ bed, with  _him_. He cuddled in further for a moment, just wanting to experience the feeling for longer, before shuffling himself out of the covers carefully. Dean did not awake as he quietly dressed, or when he pulled the covers up over Dean's shoulders to keep him warm, or when he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

It was only about half-ten as he crept down the stairs, careful not to make too much of a noise incase anyone else was asleep in the house. But entering the living room, he found Mary sat on the sofa in her nightie and dressing gown, watching something on the television.

"Oh hey, Cas." She greeted him, looking up and smiling fondly. "Are you leaving now then?"

"Um, yes. I think it's about time I head home- I never told mom where I was going so I don't really want her to worry. Not that there's anywhere else she'd expect me to be than here." And he was pleased to see that that hat made her laugh.

"Is Dean not coming to see you off?" She asked, her brow creasing gently as if annoyed about her son's bad manners.

"Oh- no." Cas knew he was blushing, his words stuttered. "I think he's too tired at the moment. But he did say goodbye."

"Well that's good. I'll still be giving him an earful in the morning- he should know how to treat guests by now." She tutted, and Cas nodded in agreement, amused by the image. He started heading for the door again but was quickly stopped. "Hey! Not so fast young man. I have something to talk to you about."

And Cas turned, surprised, but Mary did not seem at all angry as she gestured for him to take a seat across from her. He obeyed without question, curious to hear what ever it was she wanted to say.

"You know that I know, right?" She asked curiously, her tone steady.

And Cas sat there confused for a moment, trying to understand her words. "You know what?" And she raised an eyebrow, her mouth quirking into an amused smile as if mocking him. Then it came to him, relalisation hitting him hard and knocking the air out of him. "Oh!"

Mary chuckled. "You look shocked? Did Dean not tell you?" Cas shook his head and she rolled her eyes. "Typical." She muttered. "Well- he told me all about it the other day, just out of the blue on a Thursday afternoon. It was quite unexpected actually."

"So... He told you about it _all_?" Enquired a nervous Castiel.

"You bet." She replied, and Cas' head fell into his hands in complete embarassment. She chuckled. "It's okay, don't feel bad about anything. I mean, for a start, I suppose I was a little shocked. Then again, who wouldn't be? But now I think I'm happy about it." Cas peered up and saw she was smiling wide, seeming genuine about her comment. "If you are what makes my Dean happy then I'm okay with that."

"You're okay with it? You're okay with me? With... us?" His voice was very quiet, terrified perhaps.

"Oh of course, dear! In fact, do you know how he told me?" Mary rested her hand comfortingly on Cas' knee. "He came into the kitchen on evening while I was doing the dishes and he took me to sit at the table, which scared me slightly. But he took the seat across, his hands twiddling in front of him like he was a twelve-year-old boy in his headteachers office, waiting for a detention. And do you know what he said to me?" Cas looked up, his stomach a full cage of butterflies. "He said: _Mom, I think I love Cas. I think I love him too much. _"__

"Did he tell you what he meant?" He asked, his voice uneven.

"Well, he went on to tell about everything that had happened, and he seemed so relieved by it too. I suppose he was just happy that he had one less person to lie to. And as he continued, he began to tell me about his fears, and I've got to hand it to you, Cas- you've had to put up with a lot of rubbish." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, sighing loudly. "He told me that he's ruining everything for you. He told me that he's not good enough for you and won't be able to give you what you need. He seemed very beaten up by it too."

Cas frowned, annoyed and confused. "He did?"

"Yes, he did. And so I told him to buck-up his ideas and stop messing around. He was shying away from a problem that doesn't exist. And I was sure that Cas was smart enough to chose what he wanted and over everything, that _thing_ happened to be Dean." Mary smiled. "I guess he sorted things out, though, right?" And Cas nodded, the tips of his ears turning red. "Good." Then her voice seemed to turn down a notch, becoming very soft and gentle. "He cares about you so much, you know that? He's just a little cautious, sometimes, and he makes mistakes. But he's trying so hard to look after you, Cas. It broke my heart to see him so lost. I promise he's good."

Cas felt his heart almost break apart just like Mary had described for her own. "I know he is. I know." He reasurred her, and she grinned. "You're an angel, Castiel." She said.

And she gave him a gracious good-bye hug, and he left her alone to get back to her programme. Heading out the door, he stood on the porchway and felt the cool night air on his skin, welcoming him like an old friend. Goosebumps rose on his skin, the fine hairs standing up one end in the chill and he wrapped his arms around his middle in order to keep himself warm.

His jacket, he remembered, was still in the back of the car along with the rest of his belongings and so he made his way to the sleek black vehicle, shivering.

He walked round, opening the door carefully to keep out of the middle of the road for the saftey pre-cautions that Dean and Sam had often teased him about. He reached in, the dim light in the roof helping his hand locate the strap of his bag and the thick material of his jacket- or, technically, Dean's jacket.

He leaned out and pressed the clothing to his nose, breathing in that familiar scent again. It'd worn-off a bit from the amount of use he'd had out of it, but Dean had refused to let him give it back, saying that he preferred seeing him wearing it- that it suited him better. Charlie once teased and said that it was probably because he got-off on the picture, but when Cas asked about that to Dean, he'd just given a wolfish grin and a quick kiss on the forehead, not supplying him a proper answer.

He pulled it over his arms, shrugging it carelessly onto his shoulders, the sleeves forever hanging too large on his skimpy frame. And he spotted his reflection in the mirror, his eyes big and blue and glinting. He was, some-what, happy. 

And there was something rather comforting about the feeling. And it didn't change when it struck him, hard and unexpected, knocking him over flat on his back. He heard the bones crack, and felt the warm wetness soak his clothing and he wanted to move, to sit up and examine what was happening, but his body refused to co-operate.

Maybe, in his last moments, when he felt the pain travel through his body, and heard the screech of tires and listened to the odd silence that followed afterwards, he should have been sad or angry as most people would be.

Instead, he just thought about how cold he was becoming and that he really should buy Dean a new jacket.

 

* * *

 

Dean awoke the next morning to sunshine, warm and welcoming, inviting him out of his deep sleep.

The night came back to him in flashes, cosy little snippets that heated his insides. As he stretched, his hands brushed a cold empty space and his mood faltered a little. He'd not been able to say goodbye to Cas or even a thank you, and he was a little disappointed that he hadn't thought to wake him up. Then again, Cas would have probably thought it too impolite to do such a thing.

He slowly slid out from under the covers, pulled on some clothes and headed downstairs, not bothering to fix his hair or make his bed. He'd probably have to shower later.

And he already knew that his dad would be away at work, and his brother would still be sleeping until late because weekends were the only time he was able to do so, and his mother would be making breakfast, just like every other Saturday. So he found it unusual as he made his way through the house, unable to hear the familiar notes of cheesy pop songs or even a humm coming from the kitchen.

He peered round the door carefully and found his mom cooking away at the stove, the sweet smell of pancakes drifting around the air.

"Hey, mom?" He said as he went a took a seat at the kitchen table where an empty plate and a glass of orange juice sat, waiting for his arrival. "No music today? Not even singing?" He hoped he sounded teasing and light-hearted, attempting to hide his anxiety.

She turned round, her face looking a little pale, her eyes clear of any make-up. "Not this morning, dear." She told him quietly, smiling a little, but her arms wrapped awkwardly around her chest as if protecting herself. "In fact, uh... I actually wanted to tell you something. I thought it'd be best if it wasn't so noisey."

Dean felt his stomach drop to the floor as she sat down in the chair across from him and he could now see that her lip trembled as she spoke. "What is it?" He asked although he wasn't entirely sure he wanted an answer.

"Well... I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this, but um..." One of her hands let go and rested on top of one of Dean's, her fingers gently stroking over his skin. "It's Cas. He was walking home last night, well, it seems he didn't make it very far. He was found lying on the road, a little bruised and bleeding. Apparently one of the neighbours say he was hit by a car. It was all quite messy..." Her sentences were short and choppy, always sounding too close to falling apart.

Dean couldn't quite get it. Couldn't understand what she was trying to tell him. "Cas?" He said dumbly, his mouth dry.

"A nice man across the street helped to get him into the car and I made sure to be there when they took him away on one of those beds. I suppose we already knew it was too late. Seeing him lie there, completely empty..." and her voice broke. "I tried my best, Dean, I tried so hard to keep him there. But there was nothing to hold on to."

And Dean realised he was crying, and an awful burnt smell travelled from the abandoned pan, thick and unpleasent.

No one moved to stop it.


	8. Chapter 8

The world seemed darker, some how, without Cas around.

For a while, his mother stopped dancing, and Charlie stopped teasing, and Dean stopped rejecting Crowley's offer of ciggerettes and the party they'd planned for that one Friday, had been miserable. Dean had found himself leaning over the bushes, heaving up all that he'd drank and then Meg taking him home and letting him sleep on her couch for the night.

It was hard when everything lingered with Cas' memory. The blotchy stains of blood refused to wash off the back seats of the Impala, and his jacket was returned to him, dyed red and he immediatly threw it away, a decision he later regretted. And the beautiful marks Cas had left on his skin began to fade, and Dean could barely even remember what it sounded like to make him laugh.

And Dean was angry.

Angry because he'd never told Cas all the things he wanted to tell him, or kissed Cas in public where everyone would see and know how much Dean loved him. He'd never told enough people _about_ Cas, or had appriciated him enough, taking time to pay attention to the way he sang or the arch of his spine. Over everything, he was angry simply because he'd never been given enough _time_.

Sometimes he found himself throwing things out of anger, knocking his lamp off his desk or tearing the posters off the wall, The Beatles playing softly in the background, singing happy songs of love. And he'd taken it out the stereo and stood in front of the open window, tempted to throw it out into the middle of the road where the cars could break it to pieces and he wouldn't have to hear it again.

Instead, he'd carefully returned it to it's place and he'd sat and cried, and " _In My Life_ " played, and he wondered if it were possible to die from a broken heart.

Things were different.

Once, Dean stood at the bus park, a lit cigarette delicately held between two fingers and he breathed the smoke out pursed lips. As the fog faded out, he saw Castiel's two friends. The scruffy boy and the pristine, red-haired girl, and they walked through the parking lot, hand-in-hand, smiling. And the girl had laughed at something that was said, throwing her head back, and the boy had grabbed her waist, pulling her up to him. And she giggled as they kissed lightly. Dean watched as they left, fingers still entwined with one another's. His sat on the iron fence, numb from the cold.

Charlie set him up on a date with Tessa in hope that she could spark something within him. And during dinner, Tessa had seemed very forgiving about their last experience and she laughed at his jokes and told the waiter when to stop with the wine when she noticed Dean was starting to get a little tipsy. This time when she offered herself over, Dean did not say no, ready to please Charlie and forget all about that heavy weight called Castiel, dragging him down like sopping wet clothing. And although enjoyable, it helped nothing. He stood by the window and cried away his guilt and prayed that Cas would forgive him for his mistake and that he didn't mean what he'd done, promising that he hadn't forgotten him. Then there was the sound of Tessa, waking up and shuffling under the covers, asking him to come back and be with her. Dean obliged wordlessly.

At his funeral, Dean discovered that Castiel had a very large family amongst his mother and brother. Abigail had even introduced him to a few cousins and uncles and aunties who praised him on his smart appearance and his lovely manners;  _How nice it is to know that Castiel had such a lovely friend_ , they said and Dean stood there proudly, his chest filling with warmth at the approval of Cas' family. After everything was done, Charlie mentioned something to Dean that perhaps Cas' eyes were so blue because the light of the sky had been concealed there. And he'd thought that summed it up perfectly, and it could have almost been true with the abmisal weather they'd had lately.

Charlie helped Dean through it, tried to pull him up and dust him off and fix his broken pieces. And she took him to see Cas every week, and she always bought him flowers, throwing away the older ones before they withered completely.

"There you go, Cas." She would say, gently patting a hand on the gravestone as she might have if it were his shoulder. "Now look how pretty these are. I hope you take good care of them. I picked you pink ones this time because I thought you might like them. I know you would like them." And she would just continue having conversations like this, as if Cas was sitting right there, listening intently.

Dean kind of liked to think that he was, somewhere.


	9. The Party

_Out._

_Dean needed out._

_Bodies were pacted together too tightly, the air heavy with pale smoke that made his head spin uncontrollably. He'd only had a drink or two, not enough for him to get wasted on, but it was sloshing about his stomach uncomfortably, threatening to come back up any time soon._

_He had to be able to find a way out somewhere._

_Maybe he could ask someone instead of wandering around like a lost puppy. He'd never been in this house before- didn't even know whose party this was, just that he tagged along with his other friends. He attempted to look around for them, falling short almost immediatly. In his search, h_ _e spotted a distinct pale blue door and his pace increased. He developed a sudden sense of grace as he managed to slip his way through the crowd, some how managing to dodge the flailing limbs and unsteady bodies of the large amount of party-goers._

_As soon as he stepped outside he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, tasting the sweet, clean air that filled his lungs. He slammed the door behind him, muffling the loud music and chatter that circulated inside, and just stood in the silence trying to re-adjust his ears._

_"_ Shit _."_

_The word interupted the peacefulness and Dean eye's flickered open, searching for the source of the noise._

_And that's when he spotted a guy standing at the corner of the house near the shrubbery, coughing and spluttering into his hand. He seemed a little shorter than Dean, and the sleeves of his black jumper were close to covering the whole of his hands, the colour of the material almost identical to the deep, dark brown of his scruffy hair that must have been mussed from humidity of the party._

_"Hey?" Dean said, causing the other boy to look up, and Dean was stunned by the intensity of those blue eyes. "You need any help?"_

_"No, no. I'm fine." Was the reply, but the unsteady way his body was rocking said otherwise._

_"Here, let me help." And although Dean wasn't such a fit shape himself, he helped to move him to sit underneath the nearest tree. He slid down beside him, keeping a firm hand on his back, his fingers smoothing out the fabric in soothing patterns._

_"Thank you, oh dear."_

_The boy scrunched up his face as if in pain, wincing as he pulled his knees up a bit further, shoulders curling in like the worn pages of a book. He seemed so out of it, Dean wasn't sure how he was going to get him home safe. Maybe someone would be able to give him directions for a taxi._

_And that's when the boy looked up at him, and his eyes widened when he discovered Dean was still with him, turning his cheeks a pale pink. The look was very complementary against his pale skin-tone and Dean grinned, feeling quite satisfied with the reaction._

_He had the incredible urge to flirt, to maybe drop in a pick-up line or two- pull all the tricks that he knew that made people want him. He_ wanted _this guy to want him, to flirt with him too._

_"No problem."  It was most deffintly not a problem, Dean thought to himself. Getting to help out an attractive stranger was a lot more pleasing than being trapped in an over-crowded room."Do you have a name?"_

_The boy replied but he did so slowly, like he wasn't entirely sure of his answer. " _Um, yes. Castiel." And flushed again. "I know, it's ridiculous."__

_Dean considered the word for a moment, playing about with it in his head. It was familiar, maybe he'd heard it around somewhere. "No, O like it." He grinned and Castiel smiled happily. "_ _I'm De-"_

_"You're Dean Winchester, I know." Castiel said, rolling his eyes. "Who_ doesn't _know who you are." He coughed violently again, and Dean patted his back comfortingly._

_"How much have you had to drink?" He asked teasingly and Castiel scowled._

_"Not a lot at all." But the sweet smell that rolled off his tongue said differently._ _Dean chuckled and Cas looked up at him, frowning, wondering what was so funny. "Y_ _ou're still here?" He asked._

_"I'm still here." Dean confirmed, a little amused by the disbelief._

_Castiel's big blue eyes looked up at him in wonder through thick dark lashes. _"Why?"__

_If it was possible, Dean's heart probably would have melted right there. Maybe Castiel was too much of an easy target, like some of the tipsy and giggly girls that had been more than pleased about letting him feel them up,- and he suddenly felt bad that he could potentially taking advantage. But there was a certain sincerety of his question that was more than just the drink talking._

_"Fuck it." He muttered, finally, and without a second thought, pressed his lips against Castiel's in enough time that he was just able to witness the shocked expression beforehand._

_For a moment, Castiel stiffened, unsure what to do when handsome and popular boys decide to kiss you first. He parted his lips slightly, tasting stale beer on Dean's breath and felt the pressure of his tongue, asking for constent to be let in. It was oddly welcoming, and warming, and the spinning of his head was not helping him in this situation. And so he simply let himself go, feeling a sense of pleasure and recklessness raidiate through him._

_"Fuck it." Castiel whispered, and Dean smiled._

_He figured he kind of liked this guy._


End file.
